“My Name is Depression”

Allow me to introduce you to my incredibly talented friend, who possesses remarkable skills in creative writing. His writings go beyond mere flawlessness; they embody a heartbreakingly precise prose that leaves a lasting impact on readers. Our communication with each other takes two forms: face-to-face interactions and text messages. In person, he tends to be more reserved and quiet, while through text messages, he becomes remarkably conversational and expressive.

Whenever I bring up the topics we discussed in our text messages during our face-to-face conversations, he often becomes rather shy and tends to avoid delving deeper into those subjects.

One day, I mustered the courage to inquire about his exceptional writing skills.
In a text message, I asked him: “How come you write so well?”
Surprisingly, his response consisted of just one word: “Depression.”

I was taken aback by this unexpected revelation. It took me a while to absorb the weight behind that single word. However, instead of dismissing it, I began contemplating its significance. As I pondered its meaning, another text message appeared on my screen from him.

“Depression is nothing to make a fuss about. Whenever I feel that, I go to my inner home and be active. I start writing. Only that gives me happiness. It is such a blissful experience - like giving birth to a child. Depression is just like labour pains. You feel it, but then you are more than happy with the baby. You forget labour pains.”

Upon learning about his claim of depression, I couldn't help but recall hearing about the term ‘imaginary depression’, which suggests that some individuals may falsely claim to have depression. Nevertheless, I felt compelled to share my genuine thoughts and feelings with him regarding his disclosure.

In my response, I carefully acknowledged the complexities of mental health, acknowledging that it's not for me to judge or label someone's experiences as ‘imaginary’.

“Okay in that case what do you think an injured petal is?” He made me speechless. I could not think of a proper rebuttal for that. I read on his message.

“I know what you mean by injured petal. Only when the petal is injured it sparks creativity. You admit that, but you don’t like to apply that to my situation, depression.”

The extensive message had me feeling quite overwhelmed. It evoked a sense of guilt, as I couldn't help but ponder if I had inadvertently caused him any pain. My thoughts were consumed, going back and forth, replaying the interaction repeatedly in my mind. However, amidst this internal turmoil, I was interrupted by another incoming text message, which further added to my emotional unease.

“You think you are so intellectual. But you don’t know how two-faced you are.”

Shortly after, I found a moment to reflect on my friend's situation. Depression, as I've come to understand, is unfortunately prevalent in today's world. Many individuals endeavour to find a way to overcome it, and some may resort to using drugs and alcohol as coping mechanisms. However, there are also those who turn to creative art as an outlet. Fortunately, creative work can sometimes serve as a serendipitous encounter that offers a glimmer of hope to those struggling.

Let me clarify that I'm by no means comparing creative writing to drugs and alcohol. There is absolutely no similarity between the two. Creative expression can be a therapeutic and constructive way for individuals to process their emotions and find solace without resorting to harmful substances.

Many great artists may have battled with depression. It is possible that their internal struggles and emotional depths have contributed to the profound and timeless nature of their works. While we certainly do not endorse or condone depression in any way, creative writing could serve as a valuable lifeline for individuals grappling with such mental health challenges.

Through creative expression cannot be understated, individuals may find an avenue to channel their emotions, fears, and joys, potentially providing a sense of release and relief. It can become a means of catharsis and self-discovery, enabling them to explore their innermost thoughts and transform their pain into something meaningful and even therapeutic.

It is a little harsh to call it imaginary depression. But those who cannot get cured, or claim that no cure is possible for them, have that imaginary depression. Depression, though imaginary, works fine in these people. That kindles and sharpens sensitive skills – creativity, in this case. Isn’t that a wonderful thing to think of?

I flip through the books I love. Softly do I caress the paintings I love. I remember some works of art I’m so fond of. Their memories do creep along, when I’m alone. That’s when I think of the artistes more than their work. How many of them have suffered? I remember another text from my friend.

“All my creative works reflect depression. May be you don’t see that, because you don’t know what it is like. All my works you have admired, I’ve written when I was heavily depressed.”

Like my friend, many artistes have tried to let out depression that way. But have us, the fans, understood that? Depression is a solitary thing which never truly fits with sanity. Sometimes you may have to be overbearing to feel that. Isn’t that the same thing Don McLean tried to say on Vincent van Gough’s life – we all know it’s the famous lyrics of Starry Starry Night:

Now I think I know what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they’re not listening still.
Perhaps they never will...

Whenever you come across a wonderful work of art, take a second to contemplate on the artiste.

Their hearts are sore though their music is merry. The work will then whisper unto your ears: My name is depression.